


I Will

by flowerfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post CACW, Valentine's Day, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 09:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9714458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerfan/pseuds/flowerfan
Summary: A sweet moment for Valentine’s Day.





	

Steve’s been away on a mission for the past few days, and Bucky’s been having a hard time. Not a completely unmanageable hard time; he’s eating, and sleeping, and making the expected trips out into the world. But it’s winter, it’s dark and cold and there’s ice and slush everywhere, and Bucky’s lonely.

Which is weird, when he thinks about it, because he’s spent an awful lot of time being alone over the past too-many-to-count years. You’d think he’d be used to it. But somehow this is new. This is an ache different than the one from his arm, different from the guilt he still feels no matter how much therapy he endures, different even from the muted sorrow he felt during the time he purposefully stayed away from Steve, hoping to keep Steve safe in his own ass-backwards way.

Bucky tries to tell himself it’s not really pain, it’s a good ache, a result of the fact that he freaking loves Steve so much that being without him is sweet even when it’s hard. But he’s not buying it. Today there’s nothing inspiring about how he feels, nothing Hallmark worthy. He just misses Steve.

He spends a good hour trying to figure out what message to send to Steve. He always sends him a text in the morning, and again at night, regardless of why they’re apart, or even whether they’re apart. It’s one way they keep things together, how they keep Bucky together. He knows Steve will always read his text and respond – if it isn’t safe to do so immediately, he’ll get to it when it is (he’s promised Bucky, time and again, that he won’t be reckless about it). 

The miraculous thing about these messages is that Steve is frighteningly good at understanding what Bucky says. Despite the teasing Steve gets from his friends, there’s nothing clueless about Steve’s ability to read Bucky like the proverbial open book.

Regardless, Bucky isn’t sure if he wants Steve to know how low he’s feeling. He sort of does, and he sort of doesn’t, and he knows that’s why it’s taking him so long to write his morning text. He almost gives up and foregoes the message altogether, but then he worries that Steve will think he’s gone off the deep end and send the cavalry after him (probably Natasha, in this case, since she’s home nursing a broken wrist, and Bucky really doesn’t want to deal with Natasha’s particular brand of understanding today).

Finally he shoots off as honest a message as he can manage without embarrassing himself too severely (“Hope you guys finish up soon. Miss you.”) and makes himself leave his phone on his bed while he takes a shower and gets himself dressed. He doesn’t have much he needs to do today, but the refrigerator is empty, and it’s not going to fill itself. Bucky might be feeling sad, but a trip to the corner store isn’t going to make it any worse.

When he gets outside, leather jacket zipped up to his chin and a soft blue scarf of Steve’s wrapped around his neck, he takes in a long breath and lets it out slowly. It’s not as awful outside as it had seemed from the weather report – sure, it’s cold, and Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever going to like cold – but the last snow still hasn’t turned gray on the sidewalks, and the sun is actually shining. He finds himself frowning and almost buys himself a pair of sunglasses from the drugstore, then has to laugh. You’re a piece of work, Bucky, he thinks. Never satisfied. Enjoy the goddamn sunshine.

He decides that since it isn’t actually as miserable as it usually is this time of year he’s going to skip the corner store and walk a little further to a gourmet shop a few blocks down. Sure, it tends to be overrun by hipsters at certain times of day, but it’s got a calming vibe that invites you to spend as long as you want perusing their overpriced cheeses and imported olives. It smells fantastic inside, like bread straight out of the oven, with a side of fancy vinegar.

Bucky takes his time in the shop, starting all the way in the back where there’s a collection of teas from around the world. He entertains himself by looking at each of the little jars of condiments; he’d buy some, but he knows they’ll just wind up in the back of their cabinet, minus one spoonful for each of them to taste.

He’s trying to figure out how to put together a meal from the various odds and ends he’s put in his basket, but then shrugs and gives up. Fuck it, he thinks. I’ll buy what I want. I can go real grocery shopping tomorrow. 

By the time he’s ready to check out, Bucky’s got an assortment of cheeses, a crusty baguette, a box of rosemary crackers, loose black currant tea, a tiny jar of miniature pickles, and three different kinds of European chocolate. On a whim, he grabs a bottle of red wine, too. Treat yo’ self, he thinks, then shakes his head as he realizes he has no idea where that reference came from. He’d google it, or ask Clint, but he really doesn’t care.

Back at the apartment, Bucky lines his purchases up on the counter, trying to decide what he wants to do with them. He unwraps the cheeses and puts them on a platter, arranging them artfully to amuse himself. He slices the bread and puts it in a basket, cradled by a cloth napkin. He takes a wine glass out of the cabinet and sits it next to the food, but it looks wrong there by itself, so he pulls down another glass, completing the pair.

Bucky’s just about to uncork the wine when there’s a sound at the door that makes his heart leap out of his chest.

“Bucky, hey, I’m home.”

Steve doesn’t waste any time before wrapping Bucky in a tight hug, and Bucky almost weeps from the joy of it. He’s clutching Steve tightly, even for him, and he feels Steve laugh softly against his neck.

“You okay there, Buck?”

Bucky forces himself to pull back, running his hands up and down Steve’s sides and looking him over, checking for injuries as Steve pulls off his coat. It’s an older habit than most people realize. “Missed you,” is all he can say, but Steve understands.

“Missed you too.” Steve presses a fond kiss to Bucky’s lips, not asking for anything, just comforting him. It’s perfect. 

“Everyone okay?” Bucky asks. Steve would have told him if anyone was hurt during the operation, but he can’t help asking.

“Yeah, we’re all okay. Tony’s suit got a little beat up, but nothing he can’t fix. How about you?”

Bucky lets his fingers slide around Steve’s neck and up into his hair, and stares into his eyes for a long moment, trying to calm himself enough for words. “I’m okay. Better now you’re here.”

A flicker of concern darts across Steve’s face. “Sorry I didn’t tell you we were on our way back – finished up late last night, and slept like a log all the way home.” Steve sighs a little, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder, and then glances up. “Wait- did Tony call you?”

“What?”

“You knew I was coming.” Steve’s face warms with a smile, and he nods towards the two wine glasses on the kitchen counter. His smile grows as he looks over the array of treats Bucky has set out. “And you made us a Valentine’s Day celebration – Bucky, you didn’t have to do that,” Steve breathes out, nudging at Bucky’s nose with his own.

Bucky swallows hard, and scans the room himself. He sees how it looks, but… “I didn’t know you were coming. I, um, I actually didn’t know it was Valentine’s Day.”

Steve meets his eyes, his brow crinkling adorably. “Are you sure?” Steve steps back from him, still keeping one hand entwined firmly in Bucky’s. “Fancy food… chocolate… red wine…” Steve waves his hand at the radio on the counter. “You’ve even got love songs playing.”

Bucky thinks back over his day, seeing now the heart decorations in the shop windows, the sign outside the liquor store promoting a special on champagne. Had he known?

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve answers his unspoken question, as he so often does. “Be my valentine?”

“’Course I will,” Bucky says immediately, and Steve grins and grabs Bucky around the waist, spinning him around until they find a rhythm, dancing together like they were made for each other, two halves of a long-lost whole.

Steve slows them down for the next song, singing softly but sweetly into Bucky’s ear. “Who knows how long I’ve loved you? You know I love you still? Will I wait a lonely lifetime… if you want me to, I will.”

They dance, and they kiss, and they drink wine, and kiss some more. And later that night, wrapped up together in bed, Steve falls asleep first. The rest of that darn song is playing in a loop in Bucky’s mind, and it couldn’t be more true, so he whispers it in the dark, a promise skating across his lover’s skin. “For if I ever saw you, I didn't catch your name. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. Love you whenever we're together, love you when we're apart.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title (and the song they sing) is from the Beatles’ “I Will.”
> 
> Thanks as always to Perry_Avenue for the quick beta!


End file.
